


when we reach forever

by coffeeandcheesecake



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 15
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandcheesecake/pseuds/coffeeandcheesecake
Summary: His first thought upon resurrection is: Damn it. Again?When he opens his eyes, he’s standing in an open field. At first, it’s so startlingly similar to the place where he executed Purgatory-fueled righteousness on his brothers and sisters that he squeezes his eyes shut again, but after a deep breath free of the smell of crackling ozone that always accompanies the death of an angel, he is able to open them again. He finds Jack standing in front of him, the look on his face knowing and agelessly sad.“I’m sorry, Castiel,” he says. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. But I still need you.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	when we reach forever

His first thought upon resurrection is:  _ Damn it. Again? _

When he opens his eyes, he’s standing in an open field. At first, it’s so startlingly similar to the place where he executed Purgatory-fueled righteousness on his brothers and sisters that he squeezes his eyes shut again, but after a deep breath free of the smell of crackling ozone that always accompanies the death of an angel, he is able to open them again. He finds Jack standing in front of him, the look on his face knowing and agelessly sad.

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” he says. “I know this isn’t what you wanted. But I still need you.”

It’s a simple expression from son to father, but Castiel senses something slightly authoritative about it as well.

“Are you God now?” he croaks, his voice weak from disuse.

Jack nods, a slight smile gracing his face. He begins to walk, and gestures to Castiel to join him. “We were able to siphon Chuck’s powers from him. We left him alive, but human.”

Castiel spares one thought for his father, the Creator, his Maker, and feels satisfied.

“That seems right, Jack,” he says, reaching up a hand to squeeze his son’s shoulder. “I can’t think of anyone better for the job.”

Jack beams at him, but then his face falls slightly.

“I know you must want to see Sam and Dean,” he says. “But I’ve decided to severely limit angelic visitation to Earth. No exceptions. I’m sorry.”

Castiel is ashamed that his first reaction is relief. Of course he wants to see Dean: he wants to make sure he wasn’t terribly wounded in the final battle, wants to bask in the satisfaction and victory that rolls off of him after a fight hard won. He wants to love and follow Dean openly and without fear, prove to him that his love, their friendship, was always a decision they made, an active, free choice.

But still… he is relieved. 

Dean’s last words to him could be interpreted many ways, but they certainly weren’t enthusiastic reciprocation. This doesn’t bother him, of course; loving Dean Winchester was never about expecting anything in return. The parts of Castiel that are angelic and ancient know that love does not have to be requited to be powerful and precious. The parts of Castiel that are human, the parts that reflect Dean like mirrors, fear the scrutiny and humiliation of returning to Earth and finding their friendship altered and awkward. 

So yes. Relief. It must show on his face because Jack tilts his head in concern.

“That’s a wise choice,” Castiel says hurriedly. “Stepping back from Earthly interference while still being present.”

“I’m going to try,” Jack says. “But that’s part of why I needed you back. For your guidance.”

There is suddenly a simple stone bench underneath a tree heavy with flowers where Jack sits, motioning for Castiel to sit beside him.

“What guidance?” Castiel asks, settling onto the bench.

“I would like to… adjust Heaven for human souls,” Jack says. “I’ve been thinking and I understand why the original God created it this way, but I feel we need to respect that the consciousness lives on, and an endless cycle of positive memories is disrespectful to the potential for growth and understanding even after death.”

Castiel smiles to himself. “Dean always said the same thing. Not in those words of course.” He sighs, the flowers on the tree above them swaying as if in tempo with an unheard song. “Where do we start?”

\----

It takes what feels like several lifetimes of work, but time moves differently in Heaven, so it most likely happens in the blink of an eye. They begin to transition souls out of the memory cycles and into their ideal scenarios, building neighborhoods for those who value community and wide-open spaces for those who desire isolation. They analyze time spent on Earth, group people based on shared ethics and histories, accept that they will make mistakes and work to correct them.

“Why are we building grocery stores and libraries?” one of Castiel’s brothers asks him as they erect main streets across Heaven. “Souls don’t need to eat. If they want something, they can just make it appear.”

Castiel smiles, watching the neighborhood fill in around them. “People like to make their own food sometimes. They like to walk to the library.” Past Main Street, the houses are uniform at first, but can be changed and relocated based on their occupants. “The point of all this is to remove the necessity, but keep the joy.”

He has reunions with departed souls as well. Bobby has lots of adjustments and clearly enjoys nitpicking and bossing the angels around. Harvelle’s is constructed, sticky tabletops and all, and becomes a central meeting place for many familiar faces, some Castiel knows well, some he has never met but recognizes from Dean’s stories.

This new Heaven is not without pitfalls, and there are conflicts, but Jack and the angels work to resolve them, and for the most part, the souls seem to enjoy this new setup. There’s always a chance, down the road, that new adjustments will have to be made, but Castiel thinks they will meet them as they come.

He’s in his own home, working with Jack on a tricky neighborhood, when a look crosses his son’s face that is simultaneously joyful and miserable. He looks at Castiel and says, “Dean’s dying.”

It hits Castiel like a physical blow. “What?” he gasps.” No, it’s… how long has it been?”

Jack thinks for a few moments and frowns. “Only a few months.”

“Months?” Castiel feels light-headed. It’s a startlingly human feeling and he hates it. “No, that’s wrong. Jack, he can’t be dying so soon.”

Jack’s mouth twists mournfully. “I know it’s unfair.”

“It’s more than unfair,” Castiel spits. He turns to go, his trench coat nearly tangling in his legs. “You have to let me stop it.”

“No, Cas,” Jack says firmly. “I told you, no angel interference on Earth.”

“Then you stop it!” Castiel says desperately, spinning around. “Please, Jack.”

“That isn’t what I do,” Jack moves towards Castiel with his hands up, as if approaching a frightened animal. “Cas, innocent people die every day. If I start saving them, where does it stop?”

“It stops with Dean!” Castiel says, knowing his voice is approaching hysteria. “It stops with Dean, like it always has.”

“Then I’d be no better than Chuck,” Jack says gently. “Picking favorites and writing my own story.” He reaches out a hand, trying to settle him, but Castiel draws away. “Free will isn’t easy, Cas. Things will happen that feel… senseless, and random. It doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“It is wrong!” Castiel shouts, and he steps away, out of the house. He finds a pocket of time and hides there, wanting to dwell forever in a universe where Dean Winchester is alive, breathing, running, slouching, waking up and falling asleep, loving, funny, ferocious. He cannot be dead, not so soon, not here yet.

Jack eventually finds him flitting around Dean’s house, changing things and then changing them back, his hands shaking with nervousness.

“I have to make sure it’s perfect,” Castiel says, the room reshaping around them. Dean’s house was the first one he ever made, and for him, all of Heaven orbits around it as if it were the sun, shedding light and warmth on the rest of his galaxy.

“You’ve fiddled enough,” Jack says. “He’s almost here, Cas. We should go and greet him.”

Castiel’s mind goes blank. A few months on Earth isn’t nearly long enough for Dean to have forgotten or moved on from his confession. What if he’s angry, or disappointed? What if he wants to pretend it didn’t happen? Is that better or worse?

“I’ll catch up with him later,” Castiel mutters.

Jack’s brow furrows. “Cas--”

“He saw me very recently,” Castiel says a little louder. “There are other people he should see first, other reunions that are more important. I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Cas, he won’t--”

But Castiel is already gone again, moving into the space between spaces, scattering his own existence across the cosmos, so no one can find him.

**Author's Note:**

> Other people have done this concept better than me but hey, we're here to have fun, right? This is not beta'd so all of this is my responsibility. This is almost finished so chapter two will be up soon. Come say hi at beepbeeplizzie on twitter or whatladybird on tumblr!


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